Friday, December 13, 2013

This was the 80’s. There were no thoughts of discrimination.
People seemed to get on pretty well. If they didn’t they said so. Probably a
good thing. We had the most interesting coasters in town, thanks to the
combined brains and imagination of some of the guys at the Union Hotel at North
Sydney.

One afternoon, while Sheila's was still in the planing stages, Kevin, Stan and Brian the
Publican were in the Corner bar discussing the exciting new prospect that was
to be Sheila’s.

“What are you doing about coasters, Brian?” asked Kevin.

“Oh, I suppose I’ll get them from the brewery for free.”
answered Brian.

“No mate’’ said Kevin, “I think we should design some”.

I was walking by at this point and they said to me,

“What's the colour, Lyn?’

“Shocking pink”, I answered.

With that we decided that the front logo should feature a
lady’s hand holding a champagne glass, a rose and a big picture hat. We thought
that that would say it all. Stan and Kevin got to work. Pretty
soon they had enlisted two other mates, Bruce and Allan from J&K printing.
At that time, coasters only had printing on the outside. I clearly remember
Kevin picking up a coaster that was on the bar and saying,

“There should be something on the back. You always turn a
coaster over.”

So were born “The ladies of Sheila’s”

The result is some of those you see here. There were 20 in total. They were very popular and became collector’s items. Within the
first 6 months, 400,000 had been printed. It cost a fortune in postage to send
them to collectors in Australia and overseas, but they epitomised the spirit of Sheila’s.

This content for this blog are excerpts from the forthcoming Tales Of A Publican's Wife, by Lyn McGettigan.Editor Jan Cornall and Lyn are preparing the book for publication in 2014.

Please leave a comment or get in touch HERE if you have a Sheila's story to tell.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Opening night arrived. It was 1983, May or June, I can't quite remember. The place was
ready. The invitations had gone out; some declined (the local member for
Bennelong- John Howard being one), the staff were all in place; the pink coasters
were on the table; pink napkins and tablecloths on the dining; room tables set
for 100 diners.

Chef Bob, who had broken his leg the day before
(giving a new meaning to “break a leg") was in a wheelchair directing the
cooking, starting with hors d’oeuvres for 500. The bar staff was behind the two
enormous bars. The Usefuls were on the floor - 10
of them, ready to pick up glasses. Video screen on, band in the band room,
Brian the Publican, Crowie, Col Joye, Kevin and David were enjoying a beer before the 8pm
opening.

Not so me. I had been delegated the job of “doorwoman” along with Bob, The Lady Killerand Paddy the Irish Street Fighter, who had
fended for himself on the hard streets of Liverpool. An unlikely trio, but all
formidable in our own right!

“How are you guys?” I asked as I approached the door in my red
business suit and high heels. Appropriate dress!

"Have you looked outside, Lyn?” remarked Bob.

I looked outside.

Sheila’s had a curving ramp edged with palm trees that stretched
from the front door to the street one floor below. The ramp was filled with people standing four abreast.I went to the windows
flanking the top bar and looked again. The line continued 500 yards along Berry
Street, then angled into Miller Street and out of sight.

“Looks like we’ll have a good night,” I said, “Don’t forget
the dress code.”

We had a very strict dress code —for the guys; collared
shirt, trousers (no jeans) leather shoes (no runners). In those days girls
always dressed up to go out so no dress code for the girls. Brian the Publican’s philosophy
was that where the good sorts went, the guys would follow. He was right.

The doors opened.
Some of the guests had the official pink invitation, others had the verbal
“Brian invited us” invitation.No-one
was refused entry! We began cloaking coats and directed the patrons to the
bottom bar and conservatory.

I stayed on the door until 10 pm and then thought it was time to join the party. The guys had the drift of the
dress code and besides, the local priest; the brothers who had
taught Brian the Publican, and the nuns, who had
taught our children were in there. Maybe I should keep an eye on them and make sure
that they were ok.

The party was in full swing as all parties are when the grog
and food are free. However, as things go, there is always a greedy group. They had stationed themselves in the prime position- at the end of the
bottom bar and in front of the kitchen exit.They couldn’t believe their luck; free food
and drinks and they were first in!

The evening wore on. The alcohol held out
but the food didn’t, despite the chef’s team emptying the coolrooms and cooking
everything in sight.Behind the bar the
drip trays - the aluminium trays under the beer taps that catch any overflow
beer - had been emptied three times. Each time they were emptied an purple-blue ethyl dye solution had to be sloshed in, so that the contaminated waste had
to tipped out after it had been measured. This was a health directive and was
strictly enforced by the health inspectors, because in the old days, it was
tipped back into the kegs and resold.

As a note of interest, Jean, my mother-in-law told me about the “heart starter”.The
nip measures for spirits, a silver cup-like pourer that held one nip- 50 mls or
half a nip-25 mls, also had to be upended over a tray of ethyl dye, but before
this was law, the left-over spirits from the untreateddrip tray were emptied into a special bottle.
This bottle was kept for the alcoholics who were first through the doors when
they opened. One shot of this, their hearts started again, and the trembling in
their hands stopped- hence the name “heart starter”!

This night, as the trays were emptied, the bottle holding the
dye made by mixing ethyl dye tablets and water in a bottle, was empty. “I’ll
get you some,” a Useful told the barmaid as he bent down to the cupboard under
the sink and put the large plastic bottle containing the tablets on the top of
the bar. He then showed some initiative. Somewhere, somehow in the adrenalin
of the night he thought,” this could happen again tonight.” So he tipped out
enough tablets to fill a saucer and left it on top of the bar above the sink
while he put the plastic bottle back.

Meanwhile, our merry little barflies at the ends of the bar
missed this. They were too busy watching the kitchen for the next tray of food
to come out.After grabbing a bit more
food as the waitress passed by,
they turned to the bar and their eyes lit up.

“Look guys”, chortled John, one of the group, “They’ve even
got some lollies for us!”

“Best place ever this,” enthused Allan.

With that the Greedy Eight
jostled for the saucer and managed to grab a handful each. They swallowed them.
Next minute - pandemonium! They were frothing at the mouth! Their lips
were blue! They looked at each other, started screaming ”Blue Murder”! And then
stopped stunned! Eight pairs of eyes had seen eight sets of blue teeth! I have
never seen men part a crowd so quickly and head for the gents -
rocket-propelled!!I have never known
men to stay in a toilet so long or to come out with their lips so tightly
pressed together!

These guys had no hope of picking up a Sheila at Sheila's that night!

The content for this blog are excerpts from the forthcoming Tales Of A Publican's Wife, by Lyn McGettigan, edited by Jan Cornall. Jan and Lyn are preparing the book for publication in 2014.

Please leave a comment or get in touch HERE if you have a Sheila's story to tell.

For over 35 years Lyn McGettigan ran pubs in NSW. She didn't have much choice in the matter — she married Brian the Publican (as she still likes to call him). Still she made the job her own and has lived to tell the tale.

Currently working on a book of her adventures in the hotel business, called Tales of a Publican's Wife, Lyn is keen to gather stories from those who may have frequented her establishments.

One of the ventures she managed was Sheila's Tavern in North Sydney, which became a famous watering hole for the famous, the infamous and ordinary punters from all walks of life. In this blog we present some excerpts from Lyn's book and invite any one who has stories from the Sheila's years to leave comments or contact Lyn.

Rubik's Cube - symbol of the 80s.

"Sheila’s Tavern opened in 1983 and was largely the
brainchild of an amazing ideas man, “Crowie” John Crowe. Sheila’s was the first of its kind and the prototype for
many of the nightclubs and venues that sprang up around Sydney like
mushrooms after the rain.

John Crowe’s nickname should be “The Magician” or “The Dream Maker”. Sheila’s was John's embryo. He fed it, nurtured it,
watched it grow and then gave birth to it. It was his baby and it became the
fantasy of the 80’s; the place where everyone wanted to be, where they could totally be themselves or invent a new persona.

Let's Get Physical and Stay Alive - Powerhouse Museum Exhibit.

Some people may have dismissed Sheila’s as a “pick-up” joint. It was
never envisaged as that, but if that was what happened, so be it. I think that
a gentler, gentrified, truer description would be “where girls meet boys and
where boys meet girls” and in particular where a female out alone could feel safe. This was
what Crowie envisaged.

Crowie had owned Grey’s Bar in North Sydney. Grey’s was a
success, so much so that the publicans in North Sydney, (Brian the Publican
amongst them), complained so often to the Licensing Police that it was closed
down. It was certainly not closed for breach of licensing conditions! That
didn’t sit well with Crowie, and he determined to create something that would
“blow them out of their minds” – a place so successful that they would rue the
day that they crossed swords with The Crowe!

When Crowie decided that he would have the most successful
place in North Sydney, he set about to do just that. Beforelong he had found a great, empty, desolate
space – a vacant floor above Shopping World - a new complex in Berry St,
North Sydney. It was a huge, withsquare metresof columns and
cement.

Not the actual space - but it could've looked like this.

Crowie’s vision created 2 bars, an outdoor, covered
conservatorium, a 13 bay bistro with a fully-equipped kitchen complete with walk-in
freezer, coolroom and dry-goods store. There was a problem with the design of
the kitchen area though; the architects wanted to put the coolroom and the
freezer outside the kitchen, next to the cellar.At this time I was studying hotel management
at Ryde Tafe and knew this was unworkable. The facilities had to be part
of the kitchen. My reasoning fell on deaf ears - there was still a very strong
“boy’s club" operating!

“If I can’t beat them, I’ll find someone who can,” I
thought. So I went over to Centre Point where the executive chef, Herbert
Berger, at that time, was the best chef in Sydney. I had met Herbert when I
wanted advice on aspects of my hospitality work and he had showed me over the
complex he operated and explained the economics of running a large kitchen. I
explained my problem.

“Don’t worry, Lyn,” he said, “I’ll come over and speak to
them." He did. The kitchen layout turned out exactly as it should have!

The two bars, one at either end of the tavern, were huge. As they had to be. It was normal that 600 people ate daily in the
restaurant area and 1000 were served at the bars at night. On busy nights,
there were 8 operatives behind each bar. The architect, Peter Mulroney and the
builder, David Newman, did a great job bringing Crowie’s dream to life.

The name, “Sheila’s” did not come about entirely by chance.
Crowie had everything in order, the space, the lease, but not the name. It came from a complete stranger; a lady who was sitting next to him on a plane.

“You seem rather quiet,” said the woman, "you must have
something on your mind.”

Crowie laughted. He was always laughing. He has a great,
infectious laugh.

“I’m trying to think of a name for a place that I’m building
in Sydney.” he said.

“What type of place?” she asked.

Crowie described his plans in general, but said, “I want it
to be a place where women can walk in, go to the bar, order a drink and feel
secure and comfortable.”

At this time pubs were generally far from pleasant places to
be in. A woman could drink in any bar, but often the language was not good and
the area was inevitably filled with cigarette smoke. Not to be forgotten was
the silence that often descended when a woman walked into the public bar, or the many sets of male eyes that followed her.

“I don’t want that kind of atmosphere,” said Crowie, “I want
the surroundings to feel comfortable and look attractive.”

The woman thought for awhile.

“Why don’t you call it Sheila’s?” she asked. “If it’s to be
upmarket and female friendly, then that would give the right vibe. There is a
magazine called “Sheila, she continued, “Why don’t you get in touch with them?
It could work well for both of you.”

So Crowie did. The editor of “Sheila” magazine was Pamela
Noon and she and Crowie decided that some of the model photo shots could be
enlarged and used on the walls.These
were enlarged to beautiful 163cm by 153cm shots and became part of the décor. They
were magnificent works of art.

The next problem confronting Crowie was music for the venue,
He decided to enlist the help of the Jacobsen’s. Kevin Jacobsen was a
well-known show business entrepreneur and at that time was bringing the biggest
names in international show business to Australia through his company, Jacobsen
Productions. There was also another string to the Jacobsen bow - Col Joye, much
loved entertainer and part of the Bandstand mob, who were like one big family.
Jacobsen Productions could provide the entertainment and bring any big names
who were visiting Sydney to the venue.

So, one Friday all the big names in the
music industry met in Jacobsen’s offices. Some of the personalities present
were Slim Dusty and Michael Edgley, amongst others. Crowie described his vision
and his dilemma- what type of music would be most suitable?

Slim Dusty was involved in planning the music venue side of Sheila's.

The guys argued.
Finally, they said to Crowie,

“Look John,” we could argue here all day and not come to a
decision, We could charge you a fortune for a piece of paper that would mean
nothing. So, we will leave it up to you.”

With that, Crowie decided that it was time for a beer and
lunch. With later thought he decided that 60’s music would be the most
appropriate. Crowie was miles ahead of his time in the Sydney music scene. He owned the Hopetoun Hotel in Surry Hills which was
the “birthing’ place of many great bands. Crowie knew what he wanted
so he set out to make “Sheila’s” the music venue of Sydney. In actual fact, it
was probably THE music venue of Australia and many great bands such as TheCockroaches, One Hit Wonders and many, many more,played there.

The Cockroaches played at Shelia's

It also hosted stand- up
comedy nights. One comedian I remember was Vince Sorrenti,who was one ofmany. To do this, Crowie built a fully set-up
stage, lights, sound, curtains, with a mixer box and a DJ. There was a huge
parquetry dance floor in front. This wore out within one month and had to be
replaced with marble. This marble was too soft, so had to be replaced, after a week, on one frantic Sunday night by a team of workmen, with harder marble.
It lasted! The bands were not forgotten; there was a band room
out the back with lounges for their breaks and of course, occasional tables for their
“riders”. “Riders” was a list of the drinks that the band wanted
(within reason), and these were supplied by the venue.

Beside the stage were two video screens, one on each side.
Especially selected videos were played 24/7. These videos were selected on a
weekly basis , made especially for “Sheila’s” and regularly rotated. Some of
the songs that I particularly remember were those of Annie Lennox and the
Eurorhythmics- notably “Sweet Dreams are Made of This”. The sound and videos were managed by a super
DJ called Bret, who was the bane of everyone’s life, but they were also the
bane of his!

The Eurythmics clips played on the video screens.

I thought that Brett was really kind and considerate. He
knew that I loved the song, “Oh What a Night” sung by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, and he stopped whatever he was playing
and put it on when ever I walked onto the premises.

“Do you remember Brett?” I asked my mate Bernice the other
day as we were reminiscing over old times and I was waxing lyrical on what a
great staff we had at “Sheila’s” and how they were always industriously doing
their job whenever I walked in unexpectedly at night to check up.

“You know, he knew that I loved “Oh what a night” and always
played it when I arrived. I thought that was really nice.”

“Did you?” responded Bernice. He played that to alert the
staff that you were on the premises. You were pretty tough in your day.”

“Oh!” was all that I could reply as my mouth remained open.

Now, before the building started, Crowie had most of his
team- the architect, the builder, the show biz gurus. But he needed someone to
run it. He approached his accountant, Kevin and outlined his ideas. He wanted to
complete the compatible partnership of seemingly unlikely people (Crowie was
running his own hotel); an entrepreneur to bring celebrities there and a builder.

“Mate, do you know a good bloke to run this?”

Kevin did! Brian the Publican.

Brian was the ideal choice- he was larger than life and was
a great PR person and he had a hard-working wife- me! Brian the Publican also
had the advantage of being well known in North
Sydney- to bankers, advertising, radio and TV personalities, footballers and
police.

So with the stage set, the meeting was convened in the
dining room of the Union Hotel- where, after a few ales had been consumed downstairs
in the Corner Bar of the Union Hotel, made for a very amenable meeting. In this
amiable mood all agreed to be part of this new concept and were prepared to
give it a go. When word of what they were doing got around the hotel industry, the
general consensus of old-style publicans was that it would be a failure.

Crowie spoke to a radio announcer and described his concept,
right down to the shocking pink baby grand piano and the chauvinistic coasters.
I doubt that the name; chauvinistic ”Sheila’s”, with its bright pink logo of
hat, rose and champagne glass could ever have been used today. Neither could
the coasters with their ”Sheila's, naughty but nice, “ “Sheila’s, the best pick up in town”, “Climax
your week at Sheila’s”. There were twenty of these!!

“It won’t work, mate," said the radio announcer to Crowie the day before the opening ,’I’ve just
surveyed 100 people. 99 said they would never go near a place with a name like
that”.

This didn’t worry Crowie. He came in laughing to tell the “boys”. It
didn’t worry them- they were the primal, confident eternal optimists or else
they hid their worries well!

“It won’t work”’
repeated the hard-nosed publicans.

Crowie had the last laugh.

He was having a drink with his mate Colin Tidy, the
well-known Sydney bookmaker, on opening nightas they watched the place fill to overflowing capacity.

“Looks like it will be a success, John. The place is really
firing.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret. This is how to get people in
–free entertainment, free food, free grog!”

It wasn’t necessary, but was a brilliant opening stunt.
Sheila’s was the greatest Sydney success of that time. Opening night only
presaged the amazing success it was to be!

This blog was prepared by Jan Cornall, editor for Tales Of A Publican's Wife, by Lyn McGettigan.Jan and Lyn are preparing the book for publication in 2014.

Please leave a comment or get in touch HERE if you have a Sheila's story to tell.